A Mother's Dream
by Bobbie23
Summary: News of Emily's death reaches her mother. Spoilers for 'Lauren' and 'Valhalla'.
1. Chapter 1

Author Note – Spoilers for _Valhalla_ and _Lauren._

A Mother's Dream

'A Mother's dream is to raise up a child who will grow up and be a blessing to the entire world.' - Terry Mark

It was late in the evening, and Elizabeth sat on the small balcony off of her office listening to the last strains of the music she had put on. She was about to give up on the book she was reading, the words beginning to blur. Placing her favourite worn bookmark in the fold of the book, pausing on the photograph her father had taken of Emily just an hour after she had been born. Elizabeth had been enthralled by the tiny girl in her arms to capture the moment but her father snapped the camera before she realised what was happening.

She smiled as her thumb caressed the creased black and white image. This was her daughter's first photo. Elizabeth smile grew as she remembered all of the firsts that came after, first smile, first laugh, first word, first steps which led to the first major tantrum. Elizabeth laughed at the memory of a fourteen month Emily standing in the short space between her and her ex-husband, vehemently shaking her head to refuse the offer of a hand to walk to either parent, wanting to do it all on her own. _'So independent, even at such a young age,' _Elizabeth thought.

Gazing at her daughter's infant features, Elizabeth's smile slowly disappeared to be replaced by a frown. It had been so long since she had spoken to Emily. Elizabeth had been in Italy for months now, and Emily was busy with work, neither of them found the time to connect. Her heart grew heavy and a sense of foreboding came over her as well as the urge to call Emily.

Looking at the clock on her desk she noted it was nearly two in the morning. Any phone call she made now would put Emily on edge. She didn't want Emily to worry with wondering why she was awake in the middle of the night. It could wait till the morning. Elizabeth shook her head, trying to shake the ominous feeling that was welling in the pit of her heart. Resolutely she stood one last glance at the image of her beautiful daughter before she shut the book.

Stepping through the patio doors of her study, Elizabeth shut and locked them. Her head of security had been overly cautious of late, drafting extra guards, extra cameras, and he had ordered renovations to various areas of the house, only saying they were part of a security overhaul. He also sternly reminded her to be vigilant in her rare private moments. The lock clicked into place and Elizabeth turned to shut of her desk light only to jump at the sight of her head of security hovering in her doorway. Her heart beat quickened Elizabeth lifted her free hand to her chest. "Charles, you scared me," she scolded lightly.

He had been a part of her security team for nearly twenty years, ex-military, and damn good at his job. Elizabeth trusted him and he was a close confident, knowing when to listen and able to judge when his input was needed. Elizabeth frowned at his dejected posture as he ducked his head, pausing in the doorway looking at her with nothing but concern.

"You never linger Charles," she prompted as she placed the book on her desk, extended her other hand to gesture him into the room.

He approached with trepidation, as he drew closer to the other side of her desk Elizabeth's concern grew when she saw the drawn look on his face and the unshed tears in his eyes. He came to halt on the other side of the desk just looking at her sadly.

"I'm sorry Ambassador, I thought this would be better coming from me than the night security," Charles cleared his throat. "We just received contact from the FBI," he stated gruffly.

Elizabeth's breath caught, her heart ceased beating for a moment as she waited for him to inform her of the inevitable, her eyes dropped fleetingly to the illuminated photo of an adult Emily on her desk. Charles continued to relay the conversation he had with Agent Hotchner but Elizabeth barely heard anything he had to say. She only registered snippets. The phone call she had always dreaded, the one that haunted her nightmares had come. Emily was hurt.

"_Lost too much blood."_

Elizabeth braced the edge of her desk as she thought she might fall. Tears filled Elizabeth's eyes, the image of her daughter blurring. She was her precious little girl.

"_The doctors did everything they could."_

They gave up on Emily. They couldn't have. Emily wouldn't have given up; she would have fought to the end. She was stubborn, just like Elizabeth. But Emily was stronger than Elizabeth was. She remembered the day Emily informed her of her career choice. Elizabeth was outwardly aghast at the prospect of her daughter going into law enforcement, hoping it was a passing fad and Emily would grow tired of the tedious hours. As she listened to Emily's reasons for choosing, protecting people with no regard for her own safety, Elizabeth realised it wouldn't be and was secretly proud of her daughter for doing something she believed in, for going against the expectations that society had put upon her from birth.

"_Died on the table."_

A silent sob escaped as the tears began to fall, and Elizabeth crumbled into her desk chair. She mutely listened as Charles began to give his condolences for her loss. Her body shook as the tears continued to fall. Wrapping her arms around her own waist, Elizabeth felt alone.

Her mother had passed away before Emily was born. Her father had showered her with affection in the wake of his wife's death, affection which was extended to his granddaughter when she was born. She hadn't spoken to Emily's father, Andrew, for nearly twenty years, since Emily was a teenager. Even then the only words she exchanged with her former husband had been through a lawyer.

Emily was gone. Dead. Emily had left her alone in the world.

She had no one. No grandchildren left behind who she could comfort, nor seek comfort from, no one to regale with tales of their mother when they grew older and started asking questions. She had so much left to say to Emily. About how proud she was of her, how much she loved her.

"_They're doing everything they can to locate the man who did this."_

Elizabeth stilled as Charles spoke. Someone had taken her daughter away from her. Sitting up straighter, she wiped her tear stained cheeks with the back of her finger. Choking back her sob she raised her still blurred vision to Charles.

"They know who did this?"

"Yes Ma'am," Charles ducked his head.

Elizabeth breathed out. Anger rose within her, wondering how anyone had allowed this to happen, wondering what kind of monster could do this. She blinked to clear her eyes. Arrangements needed to be made. Every part of her being felt like giving up, giving in to the tears that threatened to spill, but she wouldn't cry again till she was in private and she could mourn her daughter in the way she wanted. She would be strong for her daughter.

"Thank you for telling me," Elizabeth's strained voice fought to conceal her heartbreak. "Could you start making arrangements to leave for Washington first thing in the morning?" She stood and stepped out from behind her desk only to halt when Charles stepped forward, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, but I can't," he told her softly.

Elizabeth frowned. "I need to make arrangements for her funeral," she told him fiercely, her eyes watering.

"It's not safe for you to be in DC right now," Charles started to explain. "The man who did this is still at large. He killed several agents, as well as their families, before he went after Emily. Agent Hotchner believes you could be in danger if you go to the States. He also threatened the other members of his team."

"Who murdered my daughter?"

Charles nodded. "He was an arms dealer your daughter put in prison years ago."

Elizabeth looked up sharply. "No one is going to stop me from saying goodbye to my daughter. He killed her, why would he want to hurt me now that she is gone?"

Charles stared at her for a beat. "Emily thought he would," he said. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed when he swallowed nervously, but she waited for him to continue. "She phoned me several weeks ago, asking if anyone had shown an unusual interest in your security, or if anyone had noticed anything out of the ordinary. She ordered me to be overly cautious, and increase your personal security without your knowledge." His lips lifted into a half smile. "She even made me aware of a few ways she used to sneak in and out of here when she was a teenager, to help me fill the gaps in our perimeter. I must say they were inventive."

Elizabeth smiled fondly. She had been well aware of her daughter's preferred method of entering and leaving the property during her rebellious faze.

He turned serious again. "I tried to trace the call, but she used a disposable cell. She was scared Elizabeth. I tried to get more information out of her, but she wouldn't tell me only made me promise to protect you, made me promise not to bring you to the States if anything happened to her."

Elizabeth's lips trembled as she tried to verbalise her thoughts. Emily had known someone was coming for her. This man had hunted his daughter out of twisted sense of revenge. She could barely imagine what her fearless daughter had been through, scared for her life, looking over her shoulder for what had apparently been weeks. In her fear, she had tried to ensure Elizabeth's safety from this man.

Casting a glance over her desk, the pictures there, Elizabeth sighed. Allowing her grief to show briefly she looked at Charles, seemingly giving up. "Fine, I will abide my daughter's wishes. But as soon as her murderer is caught," her lip quivered and she thought she would give into the tears, but she resolutely bit them back. "I better be on a plane within the hour," she ordered Charles, who nodded his acceptance of his task. Rising to her full height, she appraised him again. "Good, now I would like to be left alone."

His gaze searched her face, and for a moment Elizabeth thought he would refuse. She swallowed and allowed a few tears to escape as she picked up the discarded book from the desk, folding her arms over it and the treasure hidden within as she held it protectively to her chest. She slid into her chair, turning away from him, sniffing back the tears as she did so.

Elizabeth heard him shuffle hesitantly, and she thought he wasn't going to leave out of and obligation to fulfil Emily's final command.

"If I'm not going to be able to say goodbye to my daughter, please leave me alone so I can grieve for her."

Seconds later Elizabeth heard his retreating footsteps, and the door click behind him. She waited for several minutes as he hovered outside of the door. Once she was confident he wouldn't be returning, Elizabeth quietly grabbed the handbag which she had dropped beside her desk hours earlier. Relieved it was a fairly large bag, she put a sweater and her book along with Emily's photo tucked securely inside into it. Opening her draw she retrieved her passport and her purse, placing them into the bag as well.

Shouldering her bag Elizabeth tiptoed to her patio doors, silently hoping Emily had omitted one of her escape routes. No one was going to stop her from saying goodbye to her daughter.

**Author Note –This has been going through my head for a few weeks now, well at least the second chapter that I have planned has. It came to me when I was writing my last story. This chapter is just easing into that. I hope you enjoyed it. I would love to know what you think of it, especially what you thought of how I portrayed Elizabeth. If you have the time, please let me know. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note – Thank you all such kind comments. The second chapter I had originally planned will now be chapter three. If you have the time, please let me know what you think of the story. **

Disclaimer – I don't own Criminal Minds or any of its' characters. (Sorry, I always forget to put this in the first chapter)

A Mother's Dream – chapter two

Elizabeth placed her handbag and some of the local newspapers she had collected on the bed of the hotel room, looking around to make herself acquainted with the layout of the room. The bed looked inviting, and she felt like crawling in and not getting out for a week. She wouldn't sleep; rest would evade her till she did what she had come to do. It was nearly forty eight hours since her head had last lain on a pillow, almost twenty one since she had been delivered the devastating news of Emily's death. Elizabeth's mind had been too focused on getting to America to think about resting, adrenaline fuelling her.

There was no doubt in her mind that Charles was on his way to Washington, and she expected him to be knocking on her hotel room door in a few hours. She hadn't hidden her trail very well, using her real passport and her credit card to book the business class seat on the plane and the hotel room. She did it so he would know she wasn't being taken against her will by her daughters' attacker, hoping to allay some of the panic that went through his mind when he found out she was missing.

Elizabeth wasn't naïve, she knew if Charles could find her anyone else looking for her would as well. Part of her would welcome it if he tried. She kept vigilant, jumping at every noise, first while waiting for a taxi to take her to the airport, and then waiting for the plane to take off, then during the excruciatingly long flight.

In end it had been the worried stare of the stewardess when she offered Elizabeth a pillow and blanket that almost broke her. She felt the tears that had been teetering on the rim of her eyes threatening to fall as she accepted the items out of comfort, but she didn't close her eyes knowing sleep would evade her. Instead Elizabeth pulled out her book, opening it naturally to the photograph of Emily. Her thumb stroked the image briefly, any doubts about her decision to leave against the wishes of her daughter and Charles flying out of her mind and resolution set in. She had done the right thing.

Crossing to the window, she looked out at the nation's capital. It was the middle of the night and any plans to see her daughter's remains would have to wait till the morning. She sighed, looking down at her clothes. The once pristine blouse was dishevelled under the sweater she had thought to pack in her hasty escape. She couldn't see Emily looking like this. Walking to the closet she found complimentary pyjamas and a robe. They would have to do for tonight. She would need some clothes in the morning too.

Locating the bathroom, she ran a hot bath. For the first time in over twenty hours Elizabeth had finally stopped, no planning could be done at this time of night, no travelling to keep her mind focused and the thoughts she managed to push aside started to creep back into her psyche. Images of her daughter lying in a pool of her own blood assaulted her imagination. She shook her head to try to displace them when she undressed. She turned the water off when she realised it getting too deep. She welcomed the heat as she slipped into the almost too hot water, hissing quietly as her flesh prickled.

Her hands found the shampoo at the edge of the bath and she ducked her head to wet her hair before applying the shampoo to it. Ignoring the heinous images, she chose to focus on the arrangements she intended to make in the morning, anything to keep her from crying. Her first thought was to have Emily's body moved to France to be buried next to her father and mother.

For some reason she knew Emily wouldn't want that, not that they had discussed it. They hadn't even discussed Elizabeth's wishes, and in the order of life she was supposed to go first. No parent should have to bury their child.

She tried to think of where Emily had been most comfortable in the years they had moved around the world. Elizabeth remembered how Emily's discomfort at the prospect of moving increased with age, getting to the stage where the news was met with a prompt slamming of the bedroom door which Emily had only just finished unpacking.

None of those places would be appropriate for Emily's final resting ground. The only place Emily chose to live had been Washington. In the few times Elizabeth saw her over the last few years, Emily had been at ease, seemed to have flourished in these surroundings, and made friends who she adored. This was her home. This was where Emily would want to be.

She finished cleaning and rinsed off her hair. Stepping out of the bath, Elizabeth quickly dried, wrapped her hair in a towel and put on the pyjamas. Foregoing the robe, she re-entered the main room of the suite and stopped at the mini bar to grab some whisky, pouring into the tumbler she found on top of it. She rarely drank, most of the social occasions she attended were for work, but she needed something to take the edge off. Putting the glass on the bedside table Elizabeth felt the exhaustion replacing the adrenaline and she climbed into the bed, in case she did succumb to sleep.

Elizabeth reached for the end of the bed, her bag and the newspapers that she left there on her arrival. She took her book out of the bag and retrieved the photograph of Emily to put on the bedside table before returning the book back to the bag and placing it on the floor beside the bed. She then turned her attention to the papers an began scouring them to see if anything had been written about Emily's death, or information on the man they wanted in connection with it.

Elizabeth hadn't stopped to talk to her own contacts regarding the events which led to Emily's death but that was another thing to add to the list of things to do in the morning. She leafed through the pages, and when she thought she wouldn't find anything a small headline caught her attention.

'_Man wanted in connection with murder of FBI Agent.'_

Underneath was a grainy image of a man with bright blue eyes, rugged features, and short greying hair. Ian Doyle. Elizabeth read on to find out he was wanted in connection with the murder of other agents and their families before killing Emily. He had escaped from a Russian prison months ago, Elizabeth noted. She finished reading the short article feeling emptier than before, and stared at the man who murdered her daughter. There were no details of how he killed her just that he murdered her during a 'confrontation with law enforcement' and he was able to 'flee the scene'.

There were no details of the stalking and torment Emily faced during her last weeks. She had been scared of this man, must have known what he was capable of to contact Charles weeks ago when he first broke out of prison. She wondered why he would go after her daughter personally, but he had gone after the rest of the team who had put him away. She wondered why he would destroy their families as well.

Elizabeth didn't bother to read the other papers; they no doubt said similar things. She shoved them from the bed and they clattered to the floor. She grabbed hold of the tumbler and took a larger sip; the alcohol burned her throat as it travelled down. She slumped back on the pillows, rolling on to her side as she bent her knees. Her attention was caught by the wrinkled photograph she had placed there, and she clasped it.

Gazing over Emily's features, Elizabeth allowed the tears to flow. She had held them in for so long, it was almost a relief when the first sob escaped. She cried for a long time. For her daughter, for the things she still wanted to say to Emily, and for herself. Eventually the tears dried, and Elizabeth gave in to the exhaustion, slipping into a restless sleep.

…..

Three sharp knocks roused Elizabeth from sleep. Blinking her eyes, she took in her surroundings. Almost immediately the events that led to her waking up in the hotel room came back to her. She laid there, staring at the ceiling blankly for a moment as she tried to figure out what had woken her. Another set of knocks hit the door, louder this time making Elizabeth jump slightly.

"Ambassador," Charles called gruffly through the door.

Elizabeth sighed as she rolled out of bed and padded softly to the door. Before opening it she looked through the peep hole to make sure it was just Charles. Regret filled her as she looked at his dishevelled and harassed appearance.

"Charles," she greeted softly as she opened the door, only for him to push it and brush past her quickly, his gun drawn as he swept the room with his eyes. "I'm fine, it's just me here I promise."

He turned around to face her holstering his gun. His eyes travelled her form, trying to find any sign of distress beside the obvious emotional toll. When he found none, Charles began to speak. "It's not safe for you here, you promised to stay in Italy," he said sternly. "How did you leave the grounds?"

Elizabeth let out a scoff. "Oh Charles, who do you think taught Emily those ways out of the property?"

It had been when they first arrived in Italy, and Elizabeth hadn't been able to spend any time with Emily and she wanted to make up for another move. So one afternoon, when she found herself with nothing to do, she found Emily in her room. Elizabeth had wanted it to be just the two of them, and somewhat of an adventure, so they snuck out through the back garden away from the watchful gaze of her previous head of security to explore the city.

Charles held her gaze for a moment, the initial worry seemed to wear off and he held out the bag in his other hand. "You left in such a hurry I thought you might want some clothes, so I had your assistant pack you some things."

Elizabeth rewarded him with a small smile and she accepted the bag. Thankfully he seemed to have resigned himself to the fact they were staying in Washington. She already proved there would be no point in arguing with her.

"Thank you," Elizabeth told him, placing the bag on the bed. "Did you come alone?"

"We thought it best not to draw any more attention to you being in Washington," Charles replied with a nod.

"We?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Agent Hotchner and his team," Charles explained. "They would have come to ensure your safety but they aren't sure this man hasn't stopped following them."

"Ian Doyle." Charles almost snapped to attention as Elizabeth stated the name. He nodded once still on alert. "He was watching them." He nodded again. "To torment my daughter," Elizabeth stated again. This time the nodded was more reluctant than the first two.

"Have you called anyone to ask about…?" Charles asked, worried about her answer.

"Not yet," Elizabeth replied. He actually looked relieved.

"And you won't, we don't want his attention to be focused on you Ambassador."

"I want to be kept up to speed on the hunt for his arrest," Elizabeth asserted as she crossed her arms across her chest.

Charles took a deep breath, trying to reign in his frustration. She could understand his position. It was his job to protect her and she was hardly helping him. "You will be," he promised. "Agent Hotchner will be meeting with you tomorrow."

"Then I will go to his office," Elizabeth said defiantly.

"He's not there," Charles replied cautiously. "He is attending Emily's funeral. As you were supposed to be staying in Italy, Emily's colleagues arranged the funeral," he added gently. "It's this morning."

"So soon," she whispered, her breath catching, her eyes watering. Emily's funeral. Her eyes closed briefly and she hastily wiped her face. "I need to get ready," she said as she scooped the bag off of the bed.

Charles moved to stand in front of her, shaking his head. "I'm sorry Elizabeth but I can't let you do that."

"Please," she ground out, the tears slipping.

Charles looked torn as he considered her pleading, but he shook his to refuse her request. "We think he will be watching the funeral, and I can't risk your life like that. Emily wouldn't want you to be in that kind of danger."

Elizabeth breathed deeply to try to gain some control over the frustration building inside of her. All she wanted was to see Emily one last time. And everyone was hell bent on preventing that.

"Please Elizabeth, give me forty eight hours to make sure no one is watching her grave and then I will take you to her."

Elizabeth sniffed back the tears as his words registered. "Not an hour more."


	3. Chapter 3

A Mother's Dream – chapter three

Elizabeth paced the hotel room like it was her cage, and for the last twenty four hours it had been. Charles sat in the corner, looking as weary as she felt. Neither of them had really slept since they heard of Emily's death, and sitting in that chair all night must have been uncomfortable. Looking at him she could see the dark circles under his surprisingly still alert eyes and Elizabeth knew it wasn't just sleep deprivation that had caused them.

He felt guilty for not doing more to help Emily, for not saying anything sooner. He cared about Emily too, no matter how hard she had made his job when she was a teenager. He would often relay her daughters' rebellious exploits with the appropriate stern tone but there was often a twinkle in his eye. He was grieving Emily as well. She didn't show her concern though, she was still mad at him for expecting her to go along with the plan he had concocted with Agent Hotchner and for enforcing it.

Elizabeth looked at her watch and then the clock on the wall. An entire day had passed since Emily's funeral and she was waiting for Agent Hotchner to come and explain himself to her, her pain and anger rising within her with every passing minute.

Stomping towards the window, she instantly paused when Charles moved from his chair. Breathing out angrily she turned away from it. Now she couldn't even look out of the half drawn blinds. _"It's too dangerous," _Charles had said the first five times she had gotten too near and blocked her body from view. It was like they were holding her prisoner in the room which had initially been her escape.

"Can we at least open a window to let some air in? It feels like I'm suffocating," Elizabeth said pleadingly.

Charles stared at her for a moment and she thought he was about to refuse, but he resigned turned and reached through the small gap between the slats and opened the small window at the top, latching the arm so it wouldn't open too far. Before he turned away he kept his attention on the view, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Elizabeth took in his stance sympathetically, realising the toll the situation was taking on him as well.

She had been lucky in her career. While there had been threats and the odd security risk, there had been nothing like this. This situation had put Charles on edge and the emotions of the last few days were catching up with them. Coupled with the claustrophobic feeling that came with being stuck in the same hotel room it was becoming too intense for them both. He had refused to leave her alone out of fear for her safety, the lack of privacy to grieve fuelled her anguish further. As a result few words had been exchanged. Despite her frustration, there was something comforting and reassuring about his presence.

"This isn't your fault Charles, you've done what Emily asked you to do," Elizabeth offered gently.

Charles kept his back to her as his shoulders slumped. "It doesn't feel like it. You're in danger just by being in the country."

"I decided to come, that's not your fault," her apology clear in her voice. She wasn't sorry for coming, nothing would have stopped her, but she was sorry she forced him into this situation, forced this turmoil onto him.

"You're stubborn Elizabeth and I've known you long enough to know what you were going to do. It's my job to protect you, and if Doyle gets to you then I've failed you and Emily."

"No you haven't," Elizabeth told him and she couldn't fight the urge to offer him some comfort, his broken posture being her undoing. He hadn't blamed her or raised his voice. Despite his constant hyper vigilant presence he had been respectful of her personal space. Elizabeth approached him cautiously, her hand coming to rest between his shoulder blades as she kept his body between hers and the window, mindful of how he may react to her proximity to it. He jumped lightly at the contact and looked over his shoulder at Elizabeth, their eyes catching. His gaze softened and he turned to her.

Elizabeth didn't know who stepped forward first, but she was suddenly encased in his arms. All sense of propriety vanished and she relaxed into him, allowing herself to enjoy the physical comfort. She felt his hands rest on her back hesitantly at first before tightening their hold as she pressed her hand into his back to reassure him.

"I'm sorry that you've lost Emily Elizabeth, and I'm sorry that you haven't been able to mourn her properly," he said into her hair.

Elizabeth felt her eyes prickling and she squeezed him tighter, unable to put a voice to her emotions as she burrowed her head into his chest. She felt her body begin to shake lightly and she fought to reign back the sobs that she was sure would escape if she didn't. She wanted to let go of the fury, and the excruciating agony that was building inside of her. Her heart was aching in her chest, and she wanted to let it all go, knowing Charles would be there to hold her as she broke, would be strong for her. But she tightly held onto it because she knew when that happened she wouldn't be able to stop. And Elizabeth still had a lot to do before she allowed herself to break.

A soft knock at the door sounded louder than it was and they sprung apart. Awkwardness descended on them as their gazes met fleetingly when Charles brushed past her to answer the door. Elizabeth watched him closely as he looked through the peep hole like he had the times he opened it to room service. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded over his shoulder at her before pulling it open to reveal Agent Hotchner and another agent she didn't recognise.

Exchanging a brief nod with Charles they entered the room and their sympathetic gazes fell on Elizabeth while Charles shut the door behind them. She allowed her fury to return to the surface as she looked at her daughter's stoic unit chief. "Aaron," she greeted frostily.

"Ambassador," he acknowledged his eyes meeting hers. She noted the haggard look and slumped shoulders despite the professional image he was projecting. He held her gaze and gestured to the older agent at his side. "This is Agent Rossi."

The man bowed his head. "Ambassador," he greeted.

Elizabeth was thankful he didn't offer any condolences, almost knowing they wouldn't be appreciated. Barely acknowledging him with a quick glance she focused on Aaron. "I want to know how this happened," she said with more control than she thought she had.

Charles moved protectively towards the window, staying out of the conversation. He offered them a small sense of privacy by focusing his gaze out of the window. This wasn't his place; this was a time for her anger to be expressed.

Aaron rose to his full height as he stepped further into the room, briefcase in hand. The other agent stayed near the door, supporting Aaron as he approached Elizabeth. Aaron took a deep breath and looked Elizabeth in the eye as he began to talk. "Ambassador, I apologise for not meeting with you sooner," he started.

Elizabeth's eyes flashed and she folded her arms across her chest. "And what about not notifying me personally that my child was dead?" In her peripheral vision she saw the older agent wince, but he remained silent.

"I'm sorry," he looked to both Elizabeth and Charles contritely.

"How did this happen?" Elizabeth asked again.

He kept his penetrating gaze on her for a beat longer than she was comfortable with, but she refused to squirm. "Ian Doyle is a very dangerous, resourceful man, and it took several years of investigation to locate and finally arrest him. Your daughter was part of the unit which captured him," Aaron paused. "When he broke out of prison he began tracking that team down, starting with the ones in Europe. He killed all of them and their families."

Aaron stopped again contemplating Elizabeth, but she didn't flinch, her attention was fixed on him as she waited for him to continue. "We believe that at some point after arriving in America he contacted Emily and made threats against the rest of the team."

Elizabeth frowned at the new information. "Did he contact the other Interpol agents?" She asked.

Aaron shook his head. "I don't believe he did, I believe he did it to torment her."

"Why would he fixate on Emily?"

"Because she was the undercover agent who worked to get close to Doyle."

His words seemed to echo throughout the room as Elizabeth tried to comprehend the underlying meaning in them. She heard Charles turn behind her, but she shook her head to keep him where he was. "He came for her?" Elizabeth asked, holding her breath as she waited for his answer.

It seemed like an eternity passed as he exchanged a glance with the other agent, but eventually Aaron shook his head. "We believe she found him in an effort to stop him before he started attacking our team." he paused again and Elizabeth realised he was wondering how forthcoming he should be with the details.

"I want to know everything Aaron," Elizabeth prompted. Her security clearance was certainly high enough to know any details he had.

"He held her in an abandoned warehouse. When we tracked them down, Agent Morgan found Emily with a stab wound to her abdomen. The doctors did everything they could but she lost too much blood."

Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment processing the information he told her. He chose to leave out the graphic details of Emily's death, and part of her was grateful. She didn't know if she would be able to deal with the exact knowledge of what Emily was put through while Doyle held her in the time leading to her death.

"We believe he may still be in the area and following the investigation closely, which was why I advised your head of security that it would be safer for you to remain in Italy."

Elizabeth recoiled as her ire came to the forefront of her mind. "You presumed that I would stay there and sit by without a chance to say goodbye to Emily," she told him fiercely. "What would you do if anything happened to your son?" Elizabeth saw the younger man flinch, and felt awful for resorting to bringing his son into the discussion. She knew the last year had been tough on him after losing his wife. But she could see Aaron registered the point she was trying to make.

"I understand that Ambassador, and I can assure you that the authorities are doing everything they can to locate Doyle."

"Emily found him," she reminded him. It was the one point which Elizabeth found difficult to wrap her mind around; her daughter willingly went to a man who she knew was going to kill her. To protect her friends. To protect her. "She tried to stop him, stood up to him. And I will do the same. I will not allow him to dictate how and when I mourn her. I was kept out of the arrangements for her funeral and I wasn't able to see her before she was buried," her voice shook with emotion. "No parent should have to bury their child, but they should have a say in it if it does happen. I wasn't even offered the chance to help plan it," she felt her eyes watering but refused to let them fall in front of them. "I will be visiting her in the morning, with or without your 'permission'."

Aaron swallowed uncomfortably. "I am sorry but your safety was our highest priority."

"Emily is dead," she fumed at him. "I don't care about my safety," her voice rose and she turned away from him, towards Charles. She heard Aaron shuffling behind her and she stiffened. "I think it would be better if you left. Please keep Charles updated with the progress of your hunt for him."

"Of course," he said as he retreated towards the door. "Ambassador, I would just like to say it was an honour working with your daughter. She was a valued member of the Unit, an excellent agent and I'm proud to say she was a good friend."

She didn't want to hear this, not right now. He had made too many decisions without consulting her first. Elizabeth lifted her chin, her eyes connecting with Charles and the first tears began to trickle down her face. His face didn't betray her to those behind her. "Just leave," she whispered brokenly.

None of the men said anything as Charles moved away from the window and opened the door for the agents. She turned just as Aaron was walking past her guard and they exchanged a knowing look and shook hands. Elizabeth brow furrowed and she put it down to the stress getting to her. She needed time to herself. But she knew Charles would refuse to leave her even if she asked him to step out into the hallway.

The door clicked and Charles faced her, his sympathy evident. Elizabeth breathed deeply and stalked past him to the bathroom. "I need some time," she told him as her hand brushed the tears away from her face.

…..

The following morning Elizabeth looked at the cemetery through the car window, the bouquet of gerberas clutched tightly in her hand. She huffed grumpily as she waited for Charles to let her out of the car. He had been insistent this morning. After taking Elizabeth to a florist to pick Emily's favourite flowers he drove the most indirect route to the burial ground to ensure no one was following them, and then he drove twice around the cemetery to see if anyone was watching the visitors. When Charles deemed there was no visible threat he parked and then stood at the hood of the car for several seconds to make another check of their surroundings.

After what seemed like an eternity he moved to her door and Elizabeth rolled her eyes when his eyes scanned the area again. At that point she couldn't care less whether or not someone was intent on attacking her. As soon as her door was opened a fraction, Elizabeth pushed it forcibly all the way and jumped out of the vehicle, rushing past Charles.

In the heat of her confrontation with Aaron the day before, she had forgotten to ask where Emily had been laid to rest. She had Charles contact him last night to get the information they needed. When Charles stepped forward Elizabeth pinned him with an icy stare, she would be doing this alone. Charles nodded again, stepping back towards the car.

Elizabeth hid her relief by turning away from him and starting up the path, glancing at the headstones as she passed them, her heart beating faster with every step. She tightened her grip on the paper wrapped stems in her hand; there was nothing else to hang onto. There was a slight incline and then she found it.

Stopping in her tracks she took in the recently replaced earth which had yet to settle, the dark stone, the chiselled words. Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat and she stumbled backwards, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth. Tears swam in her vision and the headstone blurred. Her feet moved of their own accord away from the fresh grave till the back of her legs hit wood and Elizabeth slumped on to the bench behind her with a thud.

_Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity._

She wasn't sure if she was brave enough to do this fought against the urge to call Charles to her. Emily was gone, in the ground six feet below her. Elizabeth didn't feel any closer to her. The words on her headstone were meant to describe Emily, and to a degree they did. But they made Elizabeth feel empty; there was nothing personal about Emily, or her family, just further served to identify her with the FBI. It was too impersonal. Elizabeth's mind went blank as she tried to think of something to replace the words on the headstone with, but she couldn't.

Elizabeth lost track of time as she sat there, staring numbly at the headstone trying to memorise every detail of the moment. But it was all a haze and her heart sank as she thought she wouldn't remember this later.

She sighed assuming it was Charles when she heard someone approaching. Looking up she saw a young man who looked familiar to her and holding dark pink roses as he drew closer. Elizabeth looked to where Charles was but he nodded that everything was fine. The man didn't acknowledge Elizabeth as he respectfully walked up the side of Emily's grave and crouched down to place the flowers at the base of the headstone. He stayed like for a few minutes, before reaching out to lightly tap the headstone with his fingers.

Elizabeth watched as he rose to his full height and turned to face her. He looked as bad as Elizabeth felt. Agent Morgan, Elizabeth realised. He contemplated her for long beat. She had no idea why she did it but Elizabeth shuffled along the bench, silently inviting him to sit with her. He accepted the invitation cautiously and stepped towards her to take the place at her side.

"Agent Morgan," she greeted quietly.

His head bowed slightly. "I'm sorry for intruding Ambassador," he said softly as he clasped his hands together.

"I'm actually grateful of the company, I don't think I comprehended how devastating it would be," she told him. Morgan nodded his head, glancing at the headstone. He had found Emily, she remembered Aaron saying the day before. "You found her," Elizabeth stated gently. She refused to get angry, not here, not Emily's final resting place.

He met her gaze and Elizabeth marvelled at the man before her as she took in the tears in his eyes. For Emily. He looked broken, a far cry from the man she met in the brief time she spent with Emily's team a few years ago.

"I'm sorry I couldn't find her sooner," Morgan offered. Elizabeth's heart broke at the sound of his voice and the self-blame and incrimination she heard there.

"It's not your fault," Elizabeth said. "From what I've been told, he was determined to kill her."

Elizabeth saw the change in Morgan stiffened and his eyes narrowed at the mention of Doyle and he nodded quickly. "He was."

"Were you with Emily when she…?" Elizabeth had to trail off, unable to say the word.

"No, um I stayed with her and applied pressure to her wound till the paramedics arrived and loaded her into the ambulance and I met them at the hospital." Morgan looked at his hands as he turned them slightly.

Elizabeth watched him. Emily had been stabbed and she realised Morgan must have been imagining her blood on his hands. "Did she say anything?" Elizabeth asked, wondering if Emily had a final wish.

Morgan's eyes shut and the tears rolled down her cheeks. He stayed silent for a beat. "She told me to let her go," he whispered. "I begged her to stay with me, but she kept asking me to let her go." His eyes sprung open, almost as if he only just realised exactly he who he was talking to. "Which is why I'm here. I can't begin to fathom what you're going through but you shouldn't be here Ambassador," he told her gently.

"No one was going to stop me," she told him defiantly.

To her amazement he let out a short laugh. "Stubbornness runs in the family," he mumbled. He had the decency to look embarrassed when he realised Elizabeth heard him. "I meant that as a compliment, Emily's tenacity made her a formidable agent and an incredible partner."

"I'm glad I could pass that on to her," Elizabeth replied frostily, hiding her appreciation for the honesty.

"I'm glad you did too," he agreed. "I don't mean to disregard your grief but you've put yourself in danger."

"I'm sick of people telling me how dangerous that man is. He murdered my daughter."

"Emily died protecting us," Morgan replied his voice straining. "And if he kills you now, she would have died in vain. I won't let that happen."

She kept eye contact with him, his fierce penetrating gaze going through her as his words washed over her.

'_Died in vain'_

He was right, Elizabeth realised. Emily wanted her to be safe and she had gone against it. Looking towards the headstone, Elizabeth sagged. She had no idea what to do. She wanted to stay close to Emily, but it wouldn't be possible. But she wasn't ready just yet. "I just wanted to say goodbye, is that so wrong?"

"Not at all, but Emily wouldn't want you to be dragged into this. I will find him, I promise." The determined glint in his eye made her believe him. He would find Doyle.

"I have contacts, if you ever need…" Elizabeth began to offer.

"No," Morgan declined. "It'll only draw his focus to you if you start digging into the pursuit. The best thing you can do is take some time and remember her."

Her heart dropped when she heard the sincerity in his voice. "Everything is a blur," Elizabeth told him as her head dropped forward and she looked at the flowers in her lap. "I love my daughter, but I regret how we've drifted apart. All I seem to be able to focus on is her death, and the things I want to say to her." Her tongue moistened her lips and she tasted her tears. "I want to tell her how proud I am of her, I want to tell her how much I love her, I want to say goodbye to her but I don't know how."

"You can say it to her," he said, gesturing to the headstone.

Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. "No, that isn't Emily. I wouldn't have chosen those words for her; I don't know what I would have chosen for her."

She felt Morgan lean in to her side. "Then go somewhere that meant something to the two of you and say it there."

Elizabeth turned to him, and found his sympathetic gaze on her. "I miss her," she told him.

"I miss her too. She was honest, brave and loyal. We chose those words," he pointed at the headstone. "Because that's what she means to us. She was part of our family, and we will never forget that she died trying to protect us. She," he paused to find the right words. "She was an incredible, intriguing woman."

Elizabeth felt a smile fighting it's way on to her face with the wistful expression he took on as he described Emily. "Tell me about the Emily you knew," she implored him.

Morgan spoke to her for a long time, telling her information about her daughter that she never knew. She flourished in her job, and she loved the people she worked with. They had formed a family around her. Elizabeth had focused so much on how Emily's death had affected her she hadn't thought about her friends. She had seen first-hand her devastation mirrored in Morgan's expression.

As he drew his last story to a close, his phone began to ring. Looking at her apologetically, he retrieved it from his pocket. Elizabeth tried not to listen as he spoke. He promptly hung up the phone.

"I'm sorry, but I've been called into work," he told her.

"It's fine," Elizabeth assured him. "Thank you for coming."

They stood together and Elizabeth moved to place the gerberas at the base of Emily's headstone beside the pink roses. "They're her favourite," she explained when she returned to where Morgan had waited for her.

"I'll bring them next time," he said offering his arm to her as they began to walk back to Charles.

"Thank you. You'll keep me informed," Elizabeth said as she took a card from her bag and gave it to him.

"I will," Morgan promised as he tucked the card into his pocket. He nodded to Charles as they approached. He opened the door for Elizabeth, and she settled herself into the seat. "I'll speak to you soon," he assured her as he shut the door for her.

She smiled gently at him through the window and watched as he spoke with Charles, their words muffled by the glass. The men shook hands and Morgan went to his car parked in front of theirs while Charles got into the driver's seat. They sat there as Morgan drove off before Charles spoke.

"Where would you like to go?" He asked gently.

Elizabeth's eyes met his in the rear view mirror as Morgan's words came back to her.

"_Then go somewhere that meant something to the two of you and say it there."_

"France," Elizabeth replied.

**Author Note – A huge thank you to all of you who are following the story. I have one chapter to go and I would like to pose a question to you all – when should Elizabeth discover Emily is alive? With the other character seven months down the line? Or earlier? As always I would love to read any comments you have about the story, so if you have the time please let me know.**


	4. Chapter 4

A Mother's Dream – chapter four

Elizabeth watched the water trickle from the watering can onto the soil at the base of the pot of flowers she had planted when she first arrived at her father's property nearly three months before. The property was left to Elizabeth when he passed away and she never been able to bring herself to sell it, not with all of the precious memories it held. Before Emily died Elizabeth asked her solicitor to start drawing up papers to sign it over to Emily, she had always been so happy here.

She righted the watering can and placed it by the back door before she took her chair at the table. Her eyes swept the grounds as she picked her book up off the table. When she didn't see or sense a threat, she allowed the book to open naturally to her bookmark of Emily. Her thumb brushed the image briefly as it always did before she set it aside on the table. She'd only begun reading it the week before; Elizabeth hadn't been able to bring herself to finish the one she had been reading the night she had been informed of Emily's death.

Somewhere in the house, Charles was pottering about. He stayed at her side during the entire journey and their time in France. He never wavered in his scrutiny of their surroundings, but he relaxed somewhat since they arrived. While Charles was constantly within shouting distance, he didn't hover all the time. She knew he could hear her crying when things got too much for her, and would come to her if she needed him to hold her. She would be forever grateful for his gentle, reassuring comfort.

It had gotten too intense in the hotel room, no privacy, no space to grieve. They had both been raw with emotion and her safety was his main focus, keeping a level head when Elizabeth was falling apart. He hadn't held it against her, accepted her anger as a part of the injustice that had befallen her. He took care of her.

The rest of her staff remained in Italy and Elizabeth had taken compassionate leave from her diplomatic duties. Elizabeth attempted one conference call via webcam from the Embassy shortly after they had arrived in Paris, but her mind wandered too much and she informed her colleagues at the State Department of her decision afterwards. They understood, giving Elizabeth the time she needed. Her resignation, however, had been written weeks ago after she and Charles drove from Paris to the remote property in the Alps. It wasn't just Emily's death that pushed her into writing it. Her assignments had been few and far in between for the last couple of years.

The breeze coming through the dip in the Alps was refreshing, and Elizabeth took a moment to watch the longer grass sway in the distance. It was peaceful here, and it had helped calm Elizabeth as she mourned. She no longer wanted to curl into a ball and sob out her despair, the memories that were held within the walls of the property mending her heart somewhat. Agent Morgan, Derek as she had come to know him in the last few weeks, was right. Being somewhere that meant something to her and Emily helped with the sorrow.

The house may have been secluded but Elizabeth had arranged for a phone line to be connected shortly after her father died. At the time she didn't want to do it, but for work purposes it was a necessity. She hadn't been more grateful for the connection to the outside world than she was when she was able to open her email.

Derek kept his word and stayed in contact with her, almost always through email. Elizabeth asked about the search for Doyle, but the team were instructed to stay away from the hunt for the man who murdered her daughter. Her heart broke when she heard the anguish in his voice at the decision which had come from someone much higher up the chain of command. He hadn't admitted to continuing the search on his own, but Elizabeth knew he was. She tried to reoffer using her own contacts but he flat out refused, countering with a reminder about her safety. She didn't mention that some of her colleagues had offered the information to her, and for a moment she considered taking it. She didn't, politely refusing as she remembered the promise she made to Derek to keep herself safe. The sinking feeling of helplessness in the pit of her stomach was almost constant, and she often worried about him when she replayed his words from their meeting at Emily's graveside.

'_If he kills you now, she would have died in vain.'_

At the time Derek had been talking about Elizabeth, but Emily hadn't died just for Elizabeth it had been for her friends as well. Elizabeth hoped Derek would keep himself safe in the search for Ian Doyle. Emily would have been devastated if anything happened to him.

If their correspondence had taught her anything, it was how important Emily had been to Derek. He sent her photographs of Emily, some of them of just Emily, some with other members of their team in various settings, some with Derek. There was one thing that never changed; Emily's smile. Natural and unguarded it reached her eyes as she beamed at either the person behind the lens or the person she was with in the image. Emily loved all of them.

Initially after the news had been broken to her, Elizabeth had the misguided notion Emily had left no one but herself, on her own with no grandchildren to spoil in lieu of their mother, no widowed son in law to stay strong for. It bothered her to think Emily hadn't left a mark on the world, hadn't accomplished anything. She had been wrong. Emily had a family and they loved her, she had changed their world.

In one of their rare phone conversations Elizabeth almost asked Derek if there had been anything romantic between him and Emily. She held her tongue because deep down she knew there hadn't been. Derek wasn't aware of how he looked at Emily in the photographs he sent to Elizabeth, and she wondered if Emily knew, if she had seen the same thing Elizabeth did. Elizabeth knew Derek was coping with Emily's death by focusing on work, on his personal hunt for Doyle. She wondered what it would do to him when he realised the depth of his feelings.

Elizabeth shut her eyes as a breeze drifted over her, her head resting on the back of her chair. The book in her hands lay forgotten in her lap as she concentrated on the sound of the birds in the trees, allowing her mind to drift. Her breathing calmed. Coming here had been the right thing to do. She knew she was wallowing. But she felt like she was almost ready to face the outside world again. If only to present her resignation, or retirement as she stated it in the letter, to the State Department.

Three sharp knocks brought her back to reality and her eyes snapped open, instantly on alert. No one had visited since she and Charles arrived twelve weeks ago, not even the woman she paid to look after the place while she was gone. Three knocks sounded again, more impatient and hurried this time. Elizabeth frowned, placing the book face down on the table she rose from the chair as quietly as possible careful not to scrap it along the concrete floor. Her hand immediately went to the gun Charles insisted she carry with her as it was just the two of them. He'd also told her where to hide if anyone came to the house. She eyed the outhouse which held the concealed cellar, but decided against it. If someone came for her, she would face them.

Walking through the back door, Elizabeth heard muffled voices. Charles had answered the door and let whoever it was into the house. She thought they were speaking in French, but she couldn't make out the words from where she stood. Her feet moved quietly as quietly as possible over the tiled floor of the kitchen. Elizabeth's pulse quickened as she moved closer, her fingers brushing the gun in her waist band again. The visitors voice rose and Elizabeth was able to figure out it was a woman. They were fluent in French, but they weren't French. The accent was off. Her heart beat filled her ears, muffling the voices further, and she tried to breathe deeply to control the adrenaline coursing through her. Then everything went quiet.

She stood at the edge of the darkened hallway which linked the kitchen to the entrance hall. The sun was over the back of the house, casting a shadow over the front allowing Elizabeth to only see the silhouette of Charles and the woman in a bone crushing embrace. Charles chest was heaving, breathing deeply as he held the woman who was returning the hold.

Elizabeth's froze, poised to take the next step, when they noticed her observing them. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart beat ceased as they turned slowly to her. Pulling away awkwardly the woman, whose face was still shrouded in darkness, ignored Charles as she began to close the distance between herself and Elizabeth. Charles stayed where he was, watching in apprehension as the woman drew closer.

Elizabeth felt her head begin to shake in denial as the woman slowly came into the light, revealing more of her with each step. The tears began to flow without consent, and Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from sobbing.

'_It can't be,'_ Elizabeth thought to herself.

"Mom," Emily whispered when she finally stepped out of the darkness, tears in her own eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Elizabeth felt her knees weaken and thought they would give way but she was engulfed by Emily's arms. Her body went rigid and her mind blank as Emily held her tightly.

Emily was here. Alive. Breathing.

The one thing Elizabeth had prayed for since this nightmare began that fateful night three months.

Emily was here.

Her arms rose hesitantly, scared if she moved to fast Emily would disappear, that she was a figment of her imagination. Emily's arms pressed into her back, spurring her to complete the embrace, reassuring Elizabeth that she was going to vanish. Elizabeth didn't hold back and her arms were wrapped tightly around Emily and her neck rested against hers, feeling her daughters' pulse, strong and steady against her skin. She breathed her in, trying to commit the moment to memory.

"Emily," she whispered before the sobs wracked her body. Emily held her tighter in response, keeping her upright as her body sagged.

Elizabeth had no idea how long they stood there, crying against one another. Eventually their tears dried and they continued to hold one another. No one said a word as Charles shuffled in the entry way, glancing out the windows to see if anyone was coming. He calmly bolted the front door, but it was out of habit rather than imminent danger. His eyes met Elizabeth's over Emily's shoulder almost shyly, sorrowfully, bordering on apologetic.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but the words caught in her throat as her body stiffened. She abruptly disentangled herself from Emily, pulling back to look at her daughter. Searching Emily's face she saw the same apology. Elizabeth took a step back as relief turned to fury at the betrayal and lies fed to her for the last three months.

Emily stepped forward to follow her, but Elizabeth shook her head. "You let me believe you were dead."

Emily stopped her eyes wide with fresh tears in them. "I'm sorry that I put you through that."

Charles moved forward but Elizabeth held up her hand, her eyes pinning him where he stood. "Did you know?"

The apologetic look deepened and Charles ducked his head. "I wasn't sure, I suspected," he admitted.

Elizabeth stared at him, dumbfounded. She opened her mouth but Emily stepped in between them, drawing her attention away from Charles. "This isn't his fault. He wasn't involved," Emily defended him allowing Elizabeth to focus her wrath on her instead.

"How could you do this?" Elizabeth shouted.

"Nothing else would have stopped him," Emily replied. "He would have kept coming, wouldn't have stopped until you were all dead, till he killed you in front of me."

Elizabeth ignored the tear that rolled down Emily's cheek. "I could have been told."

Emily shook her head briskly. "He needed to see everyone believe it," she said, blinking back the tears. "He needed to believe."

"If he needed to believe it, why would you ask Charles to keep me in Italy?"

Emily paused, her eyes widening for a split second before she looked to the floor. She looked uncomfortable as she gathered courage to answer Elizabeth's question. "I didn't want him to know about you, didn't want him to focus on you."

Elizabeth watched her daughter closely. She knew when she was holding something back from her. There was more to it than that. "I deserve the truth Emily. Why did he focus on you?"

Emily stiffened and she swallowed before slowly raising her head to face her mother. "My assignment was to get close to him, anyway possible," Emily admitted reluctantly, glancing away when Elizabeth's stare got too much for her.

"Get close?" Elizabeth questioned and from the look in Emily's eyes she knew. Emily nodded and Elizabeth closed her eyes.

"I needed him to think I wouldn't go to you for help," Emily admitted. "I took something from him and I hid it from everyone." Emily breathed deeply. "Doyle thinks I'm dead and now he's fixated on looking for what I took."

Elizabeth opened her eyes. "What did you take?"

"His son."

"Is he yours too?" Elizabeth asked. She had to know. Emily shook her head, but Elizabeth saw the longing and regret in her expression. She cared about the man's son. There was part of her that wished he was hers. There was nothing she wouldn't have done for him.

"No, but I couldn't let Doyle turn that innocent little boy into a monster. I couldn't let him be used to torture Doyle into talking," Emily licked her lip when a tear touched to the top of them. "I didn't want Doyle to think that I went to you to help me hide his son. If he had even the smallest inkling, he would have ripped you apart."

"You could have come to me," Elizabeth said. She wouldn't have turned Emily away, and she had more than enough contacts to hide them. "I would have helped you any way possible."

"I know," Emily replied brokenly. "I can't stay long, I just wanted you to know, I wanted to say goodbye…"

"Goodbye?" She had only just gotten Emily back, she couldn't lose her again.

"He may not be looking for me, or you, but I don't want him to start. I don't know if I'll ever be able to see you again, I wanted you to know that I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? But I could help you."

Emily shook her head softly, reaching for Elizabeth's hands to hold in her own. "You've got to keep it to yourself. If Doyle is ever caught, I may be able to go home."

"If…" Elizabeth repeated, the tears that had been almost constantly present started to spill over. _'Derek…'_ the thought popped into her head. "They think you're dead."

Emily nodded her head, unable to speak through the emotion that overcame her. Elizabeth retracted a hand and ran it gently down Emily's face, tucking a strand behind her as she cupped her cheek to comfort her. She was devastated, Elizabeth realised. Charles had held her together, Derek and the team were holding each other together, but Emily would have no one. She would be on the run, watching her back for the rest of her life, be in a constant state of fear.

It hurt to know she may never see her daughter again, that she would be out there somewhere. Selfishly, Elizabeth thought it may have been better to not to know she was alive. It rivalled the feeling she felt when she thought Emily was dead.

She searched Emily's face and could pin point the moment that Emily pushed all her emotion inside, just like Elizabeth had done when she was grieving Emily. She had resigned herself to being alone, to this life. She was going to bolt, Elizabeth realised. Her fingers tightened on Emily's as she started to withdraw.

"Stay," Elizabeth implored softly, already knowing the head shake would come.

"I've already risked too much by coming here," Emily replied and stepped back from her. "Promise me that you'll stay safe."

Elizabeth could only nod through the tears. She had regained and lost her daughter in a matter of moments. After another long moment, her apology still in her eyes, Emily steeped away completely. Elizabeth followed her as she stepped into Charles, hugging him again.

"Look after her," Emily ordered him.

"I will," Charles promised.

And with that she was slipping out of the door. Elizabeth stood numbly at the window as Emily walked down the path, her hand holding her abdomen as she went. She didn't look back, but Elizabeth could see her shoulders heave as she fought the inevitable grief.

Every instinct in Elizabeth's body was to go after her, bring her back to the house, yell and scream at her till she let Elizabeth helped. But Emily was stubborn, and she would never allow Elizabeth to endanger herself.

As if reading her thoughts, Charles came up behind her and placed his hands hesitantly on her shoulders. Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder at him, relaxing into him to reassure him. His arms moved to her waist and held her to him. Her arms covered his to return the gesture.

"_If…" _she thought to herself. Her hopes rested on Derek, if he found Doyle her daughter could come home. He would have to believe Emily was dead. Her life depended on it.

…

Four months later Elizabeth was roused from a sleep by the ringing of the phone. She rolled over gently as she felt Charles shift to answer it.

"Hello?" He said gruffly, his voice full of sleep. Elizabeth blinked as he listened to whoever it was on the other end of the phone. His expression gave nothing away as held the phone out to Elizabeth. "It's Agent Morgan."

Elizabeth lifted her head off of the pillow and rose up in the bed as she grasped the phone. Her eyes shut in a brief prayer as she brought the phone to her ear. "Derek?" Silence met her question and she steadied herself for the worst. "Please talk to me Derek," she whispered.

"I found him."

…

'If tears could build a stairway,  
And memories a lane,  
I'd walk right up to Heaven  
And bring you home again.'  
- Author Unknown

**Author Note – Thank you all for answering my question at the end of the last chapter. I wasn't sure what the response would be when I started writing this. I wanted Elizabeth to find out for the simple fact that no parent should have to go through this. I hope you've enjoyed it. If you have the time let me know what you think.**


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